


Heaven

by raviolitheif



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Pining Hanzo, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9922478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raviolitheif/pseuds/raviolitheif
Summary: Hanzo has the attention of everyone on the team except for who he really wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Donvex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donvex/gifts).



Hanzo Shimada had been with the reformed Overwatch for nearly eight months. In that time, he’d learned to come out of his shell, to trust his teammates and make friends with them. He no longer hid in dark corners or stayed in his room at every chance he got, no longer felt the need to be a loner. Where rooms had once fallen deathly silent with his arrival, they were now filled with playful chatter and warm greetings. 

Over time, he found that he had an activity or pastime with everyone on base. He joined Zenyatta for tea and meditation, even if the monk had no means of consuming the relaxing beverage. Sometimes, Hanzo wondered why the omnic stayed during tea time in the first place. Tracer was often there with them, always ready to enjoy tea with someone willing to heat the water for her. The three made an odd little group, but he found that their dynamic somehow worked perfectly in the early evenings.  
  
Hana had taught him how to play the eleventh game in the “Elder Scrolls” series, and once he found he liked gaming, he joined her every Tuesday night; sometimes he found himself in her late-night streams, and was always shocked to see just how popular he was with the general public. Wherever Hana was, Lucio wasn’t far behind, playing music and joining their midnight gaming sessions bearing snacks and energy drinks. He would always have some new kind of music, and Hanzo found it pleasantly surprising that he enjoyed it; he even went out of his way to seek the young DJ out for song recommendations. 

Zarya had quickly become his gym buddy, a development that he ended up being grateful for. She had taken one look at him in his training clothes and made him stop, squinting harshly. “Just because you have leg like chicken,” she spoke up after some more scrutiny, tapping the toe of her boot to one of his prosthetic shins, “does not mean you get _thigh_ like chicken. You are man, no? Then you need leg like man.” Nothing got Hanzo to work like a good kick to his image, so with Zarya’s heavily accented words in mind, he joined the pink haired woman for morning workouts every other day. Torbjorn and Winston occasionally had some new arrow designs, and he gladly tested them out whenever he could. During these tests in the shooting range, he would run into Mei, who was working at bettering her aim. 

Even Angela took a liking to him, but he suspected it was because he so clearly valued health and fitness.

Reinhardt had become their unnamed resident cook, one of the few on base who enjoyed cooking for so many mouths. Hanzo was more than happy to help, enjoying the flow of cooking and the creativity put into making new and interesting meals each day. They would speak of many things while they worked together, but eventually they always circled back to Ana. The sniper ran a gorgeous garden, much of their produce coming right from their own backyard thanks to her watchful eye and patient hands. When he had spare time and needed to relax, he would join her in the gardens and help her tend to the plants and flowers, watching over them faithfully whenever she was away on missions.

Lunch was never not spent with Genji, talking of everything and nothing, past and future as if not a day had gone by since the night before it all went sour. They had grown closer now than they ever had been in the past, and it made Hanzo feel light and free. He told Genji of his crush on a certain cowboy, to which the cyborg snorted and called someone, claiming they owed him eighty bucks.  
  
Bastion made an excellent bird-watching partner. The war omnic was impressively good at finding the perfect bird-watching perches, and was delighted when Hanzo took photos for him. One time, the archer had visited the robot’s room, and found that someone had taped every picture he had taken up for him.

Meetings with the old soldier tended to be quiet at best, and both men shook hands and opted to really only interact on missions. It wasn’t out of spite, they just didn’t have much in common to bond over other than respect. 

Satya may have been one of his favourites, if only because she was as sarcastic and judgmental as he was. They frequently visited the nearest city to people-watch and gossip, splitting crushes and judging outfits together. She was the only person he trusted to talk about his infatuation with McCree to aside from Genji, and she respected that. She gave him tips, ideas for dates, conversation starters, what clothes to wear sometimes. 

None of it ever worked. If anything, Jesse pulled further away. The cowboy avoided staying in rooms alone with him, avoided any form of eye contact, only talked when necessary, and was never available to speak with privately; it tended to bring Hanzo’s mood down. It only got worse when the advice she’d given seemed to work for Fareeha, as she was now happily dating Angela. His heart hurt whenever he saw them, wishing he could have the same thing.

His one year anniversary came rolling around. One whole year with Overwatch; what a thought, right? He was proud for a long time, and was happy when the team threw him a small party in celebration. 

Jesse didn’t attend.

Hanzo gave up trying to approach McCree that night, resolving to go to his door for the last time. Athena informed that the cowboy was indeed in his room, and he knocked on the door. It spooked him a little when Jesse actually opened it, looking hurt and ready to run at a moments notice. 

“I love you,” he had said, so small it almost wouldn’t have been audible. An unreadable expression passed over McCree’s face, and if Hanzo paid close enough attention, it looked like Jesse’s eyes had gown wet with tears. “I love you, Jesse,” he had repeated.  
  
There was a long, tense silence. “I don’t love you,” he had replied, and Hanzo was too busy nodding and running off to hear how hurt that Jesse had sounded, how violently his voice wobbled and cracked.

For the first time in a year, he drank himself to sleep. He had the attention of everyone in the organization but the one he truly wanted. It had gotten to the point where Jesse would see him and flinch, as if just laying eyes on Hanzo’s form made him want to run screaming in disgust. Where Jesse had been distant at best before, holding small conversations and eating in the same room as him, he seemed to grow nonexistent as time went on. Any attempt Hanzo had made pushed Jesse to sprint a mile further.

Hanzo knew to stop when he was so clearly unwelcome.  
  
Genji’s attempts at telling him to keep trying fell to deaf ears, and eventually they stopped talking about crushes over lunch together, instead talking about the cyborg’s budding relationship with his cute omnic monk. 

Hanzo drank himself to sleep that night, too. 

A month later and Hanzo found himself climbing a narrow ladder up to a hidden perch to drink in the early morning, gourd of sake already in hand. What he was not prepared for was for Jesse McCree to be sitting there, unlit cigarillo hanging limply from lips Hanzo had studied from afar for a year. He froze, and grew tenser when it became apparent that Jesse could tell someone was there.

He had a feeling Jesse knew exactly who was on the ladder. 

“I apologize,” Hanzo said quickly, clearing his throat as he already began to climb back down. “I do not wish to disturb you. Forgive my intru-”  
  
He was unable to finish his mindless apologizing because a warm, large hand wrapped itself around his tattooed wrist, stopping him. When Hanzo looked up, Jesse wasn’t looking at him. His cigarillo was lit. The dim light that the smoldering end provided cast the cowboy’s face in a glow that Hanzo might have called beautiful if he wasn’t so busy trying to swallow his heart back down and tell himself that he no longer liked Jesse anymore. 

He couldn’t like Jesse anymore, the man hated him. He avoided him, cringed at his sight, left rooms he was clearly happy in when Hanzo arrived like some kicked puppy escaping abuse. Hanzo had come to terms with the fact that Jesse McCree hated him with everything he had. He couldn’t get his hopes up now.

“Get your sad ass up here, Shimada-san,” came Jesse’s deep and quiet interruption, motioning with his mechanical hand to climb back up before releasing the wrist in his grip. “Can’t very well kick a man out’a the place he comes t’find peace now, can I?” 

Hanzo was confused, but climbed up and sat as far from Jesse as humanly possible, nearly falling off the edge of the small platform. 

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo pipped up after an awkward beat of quiet, “for forcing my feelings on you. I should have known they would be unwanted, all I did was push you further away. You have m-”

“None’a that now, y’hear? You don’t have to apologize for nothin’,” he interrupted once more, taking a deep drag from his cigarillo. The smoke was earthy and sweet, loamy and pleasant. Hanzo never wanted to inhale the scent again now that he’d caught it, for he was sure that this was what Jesse must smell like, too, to some extent. His heart throbbed painfully as he stared holes into the ground far beneath their feet. 

“You didn’t force nothin’, Hanzo,” he started, taking another deep drag. Untrue to his word, Hanzo inhaled it greedily. “All you did was chase after somethin’ that never stopped runnin’, and y’gave up when it ran too far. That thing should’a stopped runnin’ a long time ago, should’a turned around and at least had the common decency to turn you down.” There was no small amount of self loathing in McCree’s smoke-addled words. 

Hanzo flinched at that last bit.

“Is that what this is, then?” The archer asked, voice smaller than he would have liked. “Have you turned around to tell me off?”

“Y’gotta let me finish,” he chuckled hollowly. Another drag was taken, followed by another greedy inhale. “I was runnin’ ‘cause I was scared. You came in, all quiet looks and steely words, and you scared me shitless. I hated you, Hanzo. Y’killed my best friend, and somehow, he had forgiven you. I hated that you were given a second chance n’ that you took so well to it. I hated that you got what I was given, but you went the way I wished I could. Everyone on Point here adores you, archer, everyone likes you. After the recall, I came back and everyone seemed disappointed that I was the same old me I had been before the fall.”   
  
Hanzo’s heart sank; he was right, Jesse hated him.

“I was runnin’ because every nice lil’ thing you did made me feel better. I didn’t… didn’t know how to deal with that. Your words sent me into denial, made me realize I really couldn’t face my own emotions to save my life. You always asked me t’hang out with the team doin’ some fun thing or another, or even just you. And every single time, I turned you down because I was a coward. I was jealous and hurt and didn’t want to feel like somehow you were the solution. And I could see it was wearin’ you down. Hell, everyone on base knows you’re sad as fuck and it’s all my fault because I wouldn’t tell you yes, but I wouldn’t make you stop chasin’ me either, wouldn’t tell you no.”

If Hanzo was crying, Jesse didn’t say anything.

“Genji told me, y’know. B’fore that night you came to my room and said what you said. He told me how you felt nearly halfway through the year, and told me how much I was hurtin’ you. I felt terrible, but I couldn’t handle someone carin’ so much about me the way you obviously did. He told me to stop leadin’ you on if I had no intention a’ confirmin’ or denyin’ your feelin’s, otherwise I’d be in deep shit. So uh, I’m gonna stop runnin’. And I’m not gonna tell you no, because hell, I don’t think I could handle seein’ you that sad.”

“I do not know what to say,” croaked the archer, voice rough and warped from the tightness in his throat and chest. He was trying his hardest to stop the tears. “I am afraid to say it again, McCree. I fear denial now, even though you say you won’t say no.”

“Just tell me what you told me at my door the night’a your party,” Jesse offered, taking another drag. The smoke felt like a weight on Hanzo’s shoulders. His eyes would not find Jesse’s. He scooted away from the edge, for the first time feeling like he would fall. His thigh touched McCree’s and he flinched.

“I love you, Jesse,” he whispered, staring at the place where his thigh touched the cowboy’s as if it was burning him. The tears fell.

“C’mere,” Jesse said, opening his arms and scooting backward to make room. “Say it again.” Hanzo caught the weakness in Jesse’s voice. 

He crawled over to his lap, his back to a broad chest. Large arms wrapped around him, warm and soothing. The sweet earthy smell washed over Hanzo, drowning him in the best way possible. “I love you, Jesse,” he repeated. He wiped his cheeks, felt metal fingers replace his own and wipe beneath his eyes for him. The tears stopped.

“One more time, sweetheart,” he whispered, hugging Hanzo tight to his chest. He felt wetness at his shoulder but said nothing. 

“I love you, Jesse.”

From there, Hanzo could have sworn his heart melted. Metal fingers turned his face to the left, where he was met with McCree’s face being closer than he ever could have hoped. Their foreheads touched and Hanzo’s breathing failed him. His eyes grew wide as he stared into the honeyed whiskey that made up Jesse’s own, flecked with gold and auburn. 

Their lips met as the sun rose, the sky turning pink and pale with a pretty blush in much the same way Hanzo’s cheeks flushed. The archer’s heart stopped and his eyes fell shut, Jesse’s following suit soon after. It tasted like smoke and earth, like sweet tea and peaches and Jesse McCree. 

Hanzo kissed Jesse and the sun rose higher. He felt warmth encompass his body, from head to toe. His mind felt fuzzy and tears of happiness ran free. 

He was in Jesse’s arms, and it felt like heaven.


End file.
